


Criminal Intent

by sirsquidfish_thefirst



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, SWC2014, Slight bit of Warstan too, Some Humor, Teensy Bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirsquidfish_thefirst/pseuds/sirsquidfish_thefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SWC2014 prompt: Sherlock Holmes is an internationally known thief and Molly Hooper is a specialist working with the police to catch him. But is she really who she claims to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Criminal Intent

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed doing this prompt, but as always, my story doesn't have a beta. Any mistakes are mine, and the fic probably doesn't make sense. Oh well. I don't own Sherlock or any of its characters.

They were so /close/ to catching him. Molly could feel it in her bones, in her blood, in her very being. She was pretty damn sure that Sherlock knew it, too.

Sherlock Holmes. The man that's suddenly haunted her thoughts; been doing so for the past few weeks. He's a thief, internationally known. Thank God he hasn't killed anyone yet. Maybe he'll seek repentance for his acts. She'd be more than happy to help him...

Molly shook her head and let out a soft growl. Stop distracting yourself, she chided herself. You have a job, and that's to catch this handsome criminal who's stolen your heart. Shit. 

With a sigh, Molly stacked her papers and put them to the side of her desk. She's only actually seen Sherlock in person twice. Once in prison (which he easily escaped), and another time on the roof of Bart's...  
~*~  
"Drop the gun and step away from the ledge!" Molly barked at the figure staring at her evenly. Her own gun was trained on his forehead. His was trained on her chest. Sherlock gave her a cold smile.

"Well, then. Never did expect you to join the police force, Miss Hooper. I am impressed." He stooped down into a bow of mock honor. "Mm, considering your past, you'd think they'd do a full background check before admitting you."

Her face paled, and she took a step backwards to steel herself. He's just bluffing, a small voice told her. But a louder voice screamed that he was right. Molly narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I'm not here to discuss the weather over a cup of tea, Mister Holmes," she snapped. His smirk stretched into a grin as she continued with a slight stammer, "You've robbed three banks, threatened the lives of several people, and kidnapped two children only to return them two hours later—"

"But I haven't killed anyone, have I?" Sherlock cut in. "I may be in the wrong, but I'm not cruel or vicious. You, however...you're a spectacle to behold." At Molly's choked sound of despair, he chuckled. "Ah, yes, still trying to live that down, are you?"

Molly adverted her gaze. Clenching her jaw, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and stepped closer. She was nearly close enough to touch him. She met his gaze (beautiful man; such gorgeous eyes, and his face like white marble) and announced softly, "Sherlock Holmes, you are under arrest for thievery, threatening the lives of others, kidnapping, and resisting police force." With a look of fake shock, he dropped his gun and put his hands over his head, still not stepping away from the ledge.

"My, my, mousy Molly Hooper's grown a backbone!" He crowed. Then he offered her a sheepish smile. "I'm afraid I've stayed too long. Can't risk anyone finding you out—" me? Molly thought, confused, "—up here with me, gazing into my eyes. By the way..." Sherlock gave her a devilish look, causing her to blush deeply. "I can assure you that finding an attraction to me will not benefit you. You're digging yourself deeper into a hole you won't be able to climb out of. Until next time, Molly Hooper." 

With a sly wink, he stepped over the edge. Molly gave a horrified gasp and rushed over to the ledge. Looking over, she half-expected a battered, bloody body on the ground, but for some reason, she could believe he'd gotten away. Just another one of his magic tricks. She sighed then started back towards the stairs. Greg and Sally wouldn't be too happy with finding out she was so close to finally having him behind bars...  
~*~  
The soft voice of John snapped Molly out of her thoughts. She smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry. Was lost in my thoughts," she mumbled bashfully. 

"Oh, no. It's quite alright, love. Was just here to tell you to go on home. I'm the filler for your shift," John replied brightly. Molly smiled tiredly again then shakily rose from the desk and stumbled towards the door.

"G'night—" yawn. "John."

"Good night, Molly. See you tomorrow."

What a wonderful man, John Watson. Married to a woman named Mary (nice lady; fun to be around and cheerful) and currently raising a daughter named... Marie? Manny? Molly didn't know. She was too tired. The recent days had been too stressful.

She was happy to get back to her flat in record time. The door to her flat creaked open, and her shoes and coat placed in their respective places. That's when she noticed the figure sitting on her sofa. Freezing up, she reached for the gun in her coat pocket then bit her lip when it wasn't there. 

"Honestly, Molly. You need to not hide your weapons in such obvious places." The deep voice of Sherlock Holmes drawled out from the living room. Molly growled and stamped into said room, her lips pulled up in scowl. 

"Get out."

"I just got here, though. Thirty minutes and forty-two seconds ago, to be exact."

"You broke into my flat!" Her voice was easing into a cross between a shout and a squeak.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, but since your locks are so low quality, I've decided to make you learn a lesson. Hopefully you'll buy better locks."

Molly pretended to consider this then nodded. "Alright. Lesson learned. Now get the hell out of my flat. You're an internationally known thief. I could easily arrest you right now." To enunciate her point, she reached over to her coat rack and took out a pair of handcuffs, jangling them with a raised eyebrow.

If Sherlock was bothered by it, he didn't show much. He grinned wolfishly at her. "Quite the kinky one, are we?" He purred. 

She blushed furiously. "Jesus Christ. Don't make me call all of Scotland Yard. They'll show up, don't think otherwise. They'd /love/ to finally catch the criminal I've been pining for—"

Molly clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at Sherlock, wide-eyed. Sherlock stared back curiously. A heavy silence filled the room.

"Shot in the dark."

Molly blinked. "What?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That was a shot in the dark, all those weeks ago, on the roof of Bart's. When I said you're harboring a crush on me." He smirked then. Damn man. "I've seen it's grown more than that. Oh dear. Caught in quite the pickle, are we?" The quip made Molly see red. Before she knew it, she had Sherlock pinned against the wall, a snarl on her face. Actual surprise and a dash of disbelief crossed his face.

"Believe me, Sherlock Holmes, when I say this. I'm not to be messed with," she growled. "I know you've read my file. Don't think that I'm that obtuse. Before you accuse me of anything, I had to." She looked away, biting her lip nervously. "It was a reaction. My mother remarried after Dad died. I didn't like my stepfather at all. He was too sweet at first, then it just went downhill from there." She eased her jumper off of her shoulder a bit, nodding her head towards the pale, jagged scar. "Drunkard. Managed to nick me with a knife before my mother snatched me away from him."

Molly sighed then shook her head. "One day, I came home and he was beating my mother. She was unconscious. A gun was sitting nearby on the coffee table; for what reason, I hate to think. I screamed, then I shot him." She tapped her temple. "Instantaneous death. Authorities arrived. Mum was sent to the hospital. I was sent in for questioning. Keep in mind I was nearing twenty. Nearly arrested and sent to jail until Greg Lestrade stepped in. Said Scotland Yard could use a steady shooter like me." She chuckled to herself. "He cleared my name. So... I'm a pathologist, yes, but when I'm needed, I'm working cases."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. "Interesting. You killed your stepfather. You were in the wrong for killing him."

"If there's one thing I regret, it's not letting him suffer."

His deep laugh filled the flat. "I like you, Molly Hooper."

The pathologist rolled her eyes. "Mm. I'll be damned if you love me. Our minds work alike, Mister Holmes. You can see how I'm attracted to you."

A devilish smirk graced his features, and he spun them around, backing Molly against the wall. "Oh, but Molly dearest," he purred, causing her to shiver slightly. "How can you say that I do not love you?"

"We barely know each other. And I'm working with the police to try and catch you."

"Then let's take this time to try and get to know each other, shall we?" His lips collided with hers, and the last coherent thought Molly had was, 'You're going to be in /deep/ shit, loving this man.' But she couldn't bring herself to care as he swiftly picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, lips still locked together.  
~*~  
Her head was nestled comfortably against his shoulder, trying to slow her still racing heart. Sherlock and Molly lay together in her bed, spent, sweaty, and exhausted, but satisfied. What had passed in the past few hours may completely change her. First the confessions. Then the kisses. Then the frankly amazing sex. Molly blushed at the last thought.

There were still problems to attend to, though. "Sherlock?"

"Mmh?"

"You're going to have to turn yourself in, if you want a relationship with me."

Sherlock kissed her forehead. "I know, darling," he murmured into her hair. "I'll try my hardest to revert."

Molly raised herself on an elbow, looking at him seriously. "I mean it. Don't try to brush this one off. I do love you, but if you wish to continue this...this relationship, you have a lot of apologizing to do."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back down. "I'll take care of it. I'll start tomorrow. Promise." She was hugged tightly against his body, causing her to tuck her head against his neck. 

"Sherlock, it's going to be rough," she warned.

He shrugged indifferently. "I don't care. I'd rather it be rough and be with you than have it easy and be lonely."

Despite their grim situation, Molly managed a small smile. She leant up and kissed his cheek; at the last moment, Sherlock turned his head and kissed her lips passionately. She pulled away with a giggle. "Git," she murmured. He only smirked at her.

"Maybe so, but we have quite a few things to do. One of them being me shagging you into the mattress," he growled playfully into her ear. Molly giggled quietly again as Sherlock pinned Molly's body underneath his.

They did have things to correct. Sherlock did need to turn himself in and have a trial. Molly needed to be patient with Sherlock as their relationship evolved. But if there's one thing that didn't need changing, Molly absently thought while Sherlock kissed at her neck and caused her to moan, was that they were perfect for each other in every way.


End file.
